


Dry Spell

by Ashkaztra



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Wraith, Wraith culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9534719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkaztra/pseuds/Ashkaztra
Summary: From the remnants of betrayal, there are two ways to go, and they will not fade quietly.Or; what Kenny was doing while Todd got himself stuck on Earth in Enemy at the Gate.





	

/If you have not heard from me in two cycles, gather the remnants of the Hive and retreat to Nighthold./

Cipher had sent Drought those instructions before disappearing off the grid, as was his way. At the time, Drought had not thought much of it. Cipher often sent him such messages, and they were rarely necessary. 

It had been over two cycles, however, closing in on three, and he was beginning to realise that he would have no choice but to follow orders. Theoretically, he could stay put, of course. His sister-queen would welcome his presence as a permanent attendant if he asked her. As much as he wished to see her prosper, however, his allegiance to his Commander was greater. Not just his Commander; his closest friend and core-bond. He could no more refuse his orders than he could turn into an Iratus bug. It was not his way. The only reason he had not yet done as he had been told was because he had hoped, somewhere deep in his core, that Cipher was merely delayed. 

Through the treads that had been passed on from other Hives, he had heard that Atlantis was no longer in its position, that the last city-ship of the Mendacious had disappeared. If the city was gone somewhere else, Cipher was no doubt gone with it. Until he returned, all Drought could do was to follow orders. 

It was not as though it was an insurmountable task. Most of their Hive had followed the treacherous Ashes, at least when it came to the Blades. Drought was not surprised; most of them were of Stardust's old Hive, and they had long resented Cipher for allowing their Queen to get killed. Even Cipher's plans did not always go off perfectly. Most of their Wits were still loyal to Cipher, at least. Ashes had never made a secret of his disdain for Wits and their importance to the Hive. Their Queen had agreed. It was not an uncommon attitude, but it cost Ashes and his traitors dearly. A Hive needed all its attendants to work, including the Wits. The moment the fortified hive ship took damage, they would have a problem, with nobody to coax node-work or weave synapses. 

The fortified ship was powerful, and sturdy, but it would not last long without maintenance. 

Then again, Ashes had always been a bit of a fool. Only a fool betrayed and stole from Cipher, whose tenaciousness and ability to carry a grudge for countless orbits was legendary. 

Most of their Wits had been off-hive at the time, working on Cipher's instructions. The rouge Hunter Clan Wit whose work had crippled so many of their kin, Lastlight, had left behind several secret facilities and those held information that could be invaluable to them. Because so many others readily dismissed Wits, those facilities were not even contested. 

Drought had borrowed a small scout ship from his sister-queen. It was not much, but it was easy to fly and had the engines to enter hyperspace. That was all he really required, for now. Once he had everyone gathered, he would have someone return the ship to his sister-queen's hive. They needed the ship more than the Night Clan ever would. 

The first facility Drought was visiting was the largest, but also the best hidden, at least of the ones they had found so far. Cipher was certain there were many more facilities they had yet to discover the location of, and Drought was inclined to agree. From what he had read of Lastlight's notes, the Wit had been brilliant, but also incredibly paranoid. He would have kept as many hidden caches as he could manage, and considering how much damage he had done on his own, it was clear he was a resourceful one. 

Had he not turned on Atlantis as he had, and threatened Teyla Emmagan and her child, Drought suspected Cipher would have attempted to bring him in, even in his hybrid state. Cipher put far more stock in a person's skills than in their nature. It was too late now, however, even if Atlantis had been willing to let such a thing pass. 

They had left Storm in charge of the largest facility. Of their Wits, he was by far the most skilled at wrangling the rest of them, second only to Wisp. However, Wisp had refused to work with Queen Stardust and Ashes, and had left them all behind. Until that day, Drought had never realised how much Snowdrop had meant to every one of their Hive, not just to him and Cipher, who had always been the closest to her. Wisp normally shielded well, but his rage and sadness had rolled off him that day. 

Had he not left, he would have ended up killing someone. Frankly, Drought would have enjoyed seeing Wisp take Ashes apart. The Blade was utterly arrogant about the capabilities of Wits in general, and Mindblades in particular. Another reason why Wisp had left. With Ashes and Stardust in charge, even if Cipher was Commander, a Mindblade would never have felt welcome. 

He would have been invaluable now, but Drought had tried reaching out to find him, and had been informed by Queen Darkwater that nobody knew where her pod-brother was. A shame. Once he returned from wherever he had gone off to, Cipher would no doubt want to seek him out and get him to join their Hive again, but Drought did not have the resources for that at the moment. Storm was not a bad second choice, though. Distant kin to Drought, through their mother-queens, they were of similar ages and similar upbringings, and they were both unwavering in their loyalty to Cipher. 

Flying was not Drought's best skill. He could handle a Dart if he must, and he could direct a hive ship, though the latter did not require flying skills as much as it required communication skills, and Drought was a much better communicator than he was a pilot. Scout ships and Cruisers both required some actual skill, however, and it took him several tries to land the scout vessel safely on the planet that hid Lastlight's research base. It was a difficult planet to land on, as well, considering it was a snowy, frozen wasteland. The weather made visibility poor, and he almost set the ship down on a frozen lake before he detected the water below the surface and managed to redirect his flight path. 

The snow and ice did not make for a hospitable weather to walk in, either. Though frost-related damage was no danger to him, like all his kind, extreme cold triggered the instincts to hibernate, and it took a lot of energy and effort to push that impulse away, even as he felt the Dreaming pull at the edges of his mind. 

Getting inside the base was a relief. Those who were stationed here wore heavier coats, treated to withstand low temperatures better, but he only had a basic coat, which was not meant for frozen wastes. Inside, the temperatures were not exactly high, but they were a lot higher than outside, and the walls meant there were no winds and no snow. Just cool corridors leading down into the ground. 

Impressive, considering the temperatures. The ground had to be frozen through, so coaxing a framework to grow through it would have had to have been a challenge. It would have to have taken a lot of energy, too, to feed a Seed enough to do all this. He hoped that meant there was plentiful resources to be found. Without the fortified hive ship or the resources that had gone into it, they did not have a lot of resources to their name. Admittedly, they had a powerful clan at their back, but that did not mean they would get any extra help. 

In fact, Drought suspected that Nightrose would be rather displeased with Cipher at this point. He had gotten a lot of hive ships destroyed since his return. Only once deliberately, and most because of situations well outside his control; he did not think the Primary would blame her son for the loss of the ships that fell to the Attero device, but that still did not mean he would not have to prove himself again. 

The Night Clan would probably keep the worst of their enemies off their backs until they could get another ship up, but the actual resources and attendants, they would have to come up with themselves. Nightrose was a surprisingly lenient Queen, but she did not accept anything but excellence from her favoured children. 

Reaching out with his weaving, Drought brushed against Storm's shields and took a moment to bask in the feel of the familiar mind against his. Storm's mind-feel lived up to his hive-name, electricity crackling across the surface, the scent of ozone and rain coming across the threads. 

The first sending that came across the Weave had no message, just the feeling of affection and warmth, the joy of seeing someone he had not seen in a long time. It was a feeling that Drought was reflecting back immediately, pleased as their weavings slotted themselves into a familiar pattern, the Weave forming around them. 

On his sister-queen's ship, Drought had always been in the periphery of the Weave, never fully joined. He was there to help for a limited time, not truly hive-kin, and though he was welcomed, it still did not feel nearly enough, the emptiness in his awareness heavy and staggering. Now, in the presence of Hive, that emptiness was already beginning to fill, Storm's electric mind-feel rumbling across the expanse like a distant thunderstorm. 

/You are alone,/ Storm remarked, surprise spiking through his mind-feel. 

/Ashes betrayed the Commander and took the fortified ship for his own. The Commander has gone to Atlantis, to seek their assistance in handling it. In the meantime, I am to gather those of us still loyal and bring the Hive to Nighthold./ To wait until the Commander returned, or until they could no longer expect him to do so. Either way, they would rebuild. They always did. 

Storm's mind-feel went heavier, the electricity sparking ominously as anger flooded through the threads. /We should have rid ourselves of him a long time ago,/ he sent. /At least this way, he has done us the favour of revealing every disloyal member of the Hive to us./ 

/That is true,/ Drought agreed. /We may be without the Commander at the moment, and have no Blades but myself, but at least we have no more traitors./

/Once at Nighthold, I still want to seek out a Discerner to help make sure of that,/ Storm considered, his mind-feel calming a little. 

/I have already tried to get hold of Wisp, but he has gone on one of his journeys, apparently./ The Mindblade had made a habit of doing that, just disappearing for countless cycles until he finally resurfaced somewhere. Drought could not imagine ever leaving the Weave like that, deliberately severing himself from the Hive, but he was not a Mindblade. /I will find someone who can do it, however. If nothing else, I will bring in Abyss to do it. There is no hiding anything from him./ 

/Honestly, if they are willing to be in Abyss' presence for any time, I think we can safely consider them loyal,/ Storm remarked. /Nobody with anything to hide would allow him near them./

Despite Cipher's affection for Abyss, Drought would rather not spend time in his presence, either, but then, Drought had a passable strength at Discerning, and Abyss had no shields. He might not be able to read much from someone who was shielding, or he would have sensed the treachery before it had happened, but faced with Abyss and his complete lack of shields, Drought always came away feeling disoriented and nauseated. 

From the feel of Storm's sending, he felt much the same way. Still, it was a good tool to have in mind, should the Hive's loyalty come into question. 

/This facility is larger than I had expected,/ Drought remarked, walking towards where Storm was currently. 

/We believe this was Lastlight's main base. The other facilities are far more specialised, while this one has a lot of everything. I have spent the last cycles just pulling every main core from his files. There are countless splinter-paths yet to decipher. I hope I will have the option to return, one day. It is actually quite interesting./ Storm felt genuinely excited, which was rare for the normally so withdrawn Wit. 

Drought turned a corner and came into a much larger chamber, lit by a strange light node, unlike anything he had ever seen before. No wonder the Wits were so fascinated. /I am sure the Commander will want this information./

/I know he will,/ Storm agreed. /Though he will want a ship more, understandably./ 

He was standing by a console with another Wit, a younger attendant Drought did not know well enough to pick out without reaching out. Brushing against the other's mind in greeting, he catalogued her mind-feel. She felt like the scent of wet moss in the morning. She was unknown to him, which was not necessarily a bad thing, but it did leave him wondering what she was doing there. Cipher had given particular instructions as to who went where. 

/We lost Redstar to a very elaborate trap,/ Storm explained. /I reached out to Queen Darkwater to get a replacement, and Mossdew came highly recommended./ 

If she had come through Darkwater's Hive, there was no reason for concern, Drought supposed. Abyss would have picked through her mind already. 

He sent her the traditional greetings, sharing his outer threads with her as she did the same. Originally a Blade of the Hunter Clan, she had decided to pursue the path of a Wit instead, an unusual choice, though not unheard of. They had several hive-kin who had made the same switch. Her mind-feel was solid and centred, a good sign. A stable mind-feel was always a good sign for anyone to have, but possibly even more important for Wits. 

A Blade whose mind became destabilised could do a lot of damage, especially one trained in close combat, but a Wit in the same state could easily destroy a ship, considering their knowledge of the ships and their inner workings. 

Her greeting told him she was genuinely interested in the work they were doing, and would much rather do Wit-work than play the dominance games that were so common in Blades. 

Perhaps her shielding could do with some work, considering she had just broadcast that to a Blade, though frankly, Drought agreed with her. He had no patience for dominance games, either. He never had. /And neither does the Commander,/ he offered, when her mind-feel flashed embarrassment from having shared that. /Be welcome in our Hive./

Traditionally, the greeting of a new hive-kin, even an auxiliary one, was the role of the Queen, or, in the absence of a queen, the Commander. With no Queen and a missing Commander, the responsibility fell to Draught, the highest-ranked Attendant of the Hive. 

Once more, he found himself in command, despite his distaste for the position. 

You will owe me, Cipher, he thought, wrapping his shields around the thought. 

/Call the rest in,/ he instructed Storm. /We are withdrawing to Nighthold until the Commander returns./

The call was loud, echoing through the Weave, pulling every hive-kin in the facility to their position. It was not that many. 

This was the largest of the facilities. If this was all there was here, the others would be smaller still. It was not much of a base to rebuild from. A fraction of their former Hive, and only one Blade. At least the Wits they had were some of the best around, a result of a Commander who had worked hard to create an environment where Wits would thrive as much as their Blade kin. It had not been too much of a challenge in the end, the Queen and her Consort had not given any thought to what the Wits were doing at all, and any Blades who tried their domination games would face the Commander, who did not take lightly to such behaviour. 

In his absence, Drought would strive to follow that example. A Hive was only as strong as its members, and if all Attendants felt equally treated, that made for a much stronger and more powerful Hive than with the heavy imbalance in the favour of Blades that most Hives seemed to nurture. 

Watching the gathering Wits, Drought took a step back so he could stand in the opening corridor, giving him a higher vantage point. He was of average height for a Wraith, but some of the Wits were taller than he was, including both Storm and Mossdew, and it was easier to look commanding when you were the tallest in the room. The Commander did not need such tricks, but the Commander was a natural at this, at being in command. Drought had been Commander before, and could do it again if needed, but it would never come as naturally to him as it did to Cipher. Cipher was naturally commanding, even without the additional weight of his bloodline and clan. When he walked into a room, the rest of the room naturally shifted around him. 

Drought had to reach out and pull. 

Once he had everyone's attention, their mind-feels all pinging off of his shields and his threads like little bursts of electricity, he sent the instructions Cipher had left him with to everyone in the Weave, letting them flow directly so nobody would challenge that it was the Commander's orders. The group of Wits watched him intently as he sent, and then sent their own response, a wave of more or less complete compliance. The Commander had fought to earn their loyalty, and that was clearly reflected here, in how easily they trusted his orders, even sent through another. 

/Mossdew,/ Drought sent, pulling on her threads away from the mass. /When you were a Blade, you were a wing commander. You have experience in leading, then. I would like you to lead the Wits here to Nighthold. I need Storm to come with me to gather the others./

She flashed surprise at being given the task, but did not protest. /I will bring them to Nighthold,/ she promised. /I am familiar with the facilities there from my time on Queen Darkwater's Hive./ 

He sent his satisfaction and stepped down from his perch. 

/I will be coming with you, then?/ Storm asked, as Mossdew begun gathering up the others, sending them to get their belongings and meet her at the portal room. 

/Your presence will be helpful,/ Drought informed him, and then, on threads kept separate from the others, flashed teasing amusement. /Besides, I do not trust you to remain focused if Queen Nightrose is in residence./

The crackling, electric lash across his shields was well deserved. /Let us get the others, so we can await the Commander's return./

/You are certain he will return, then?/ Storm asked, walking to the residence chambers to retrieve his belongings. Drought fell in beside him, walking at his side. 

/He always has before,/ Drought sent back. /The alternative is -- I will not consider it until I have to./ Cipher always had plans for every contingency, whatever it was, but Drought was not Cipher, and the thought of losing the last core-bond he had was not one he hoped to be faced with. As it was, the bond was dulled and distant, rendered inert by distance and, no doubt, by Cipher's ridiculous shields. He liked to think he would know if Cipher died, though with the state of the bond as it was, he was uncertain. 

He did not enjoy uncertainty. 

/None of us do,/ Storm mused, leading him into a chamber and pulling things into a bag. He did not have much there, like most of them. They had lost so much, both in hive-kin and belongings, over the last orbit. Far more than they had ever expected. 

None of them were yet ready to give up, at least. The tenacity of Wraith was impressive, even in the face of devastation. Sometimes because of devastation, even; spite was an excellent motivation, something Cipher had told him over and over. 

/He will stay alive as long as his life inconveniences someone else,/ Storm agreed, and put his bag down to wrap his arms around Drought, one hand coming up to comb through his hair. Pleased, Drought leaned into his hive-kin. He had missed being touched by his Hive. His sister-queen embraced him sometimes, which he had appreciated, but she was not Hive. Storm was, and the way their weaving aligned with each other to form a warm, familiar pattern soothed away an emptiness in his mind that Drought had not even realised was there. Everything about Storm was familiar; the crackling weight of his mind against Drought's as much a welcome touch as the arms around him and the scent of Hive, of friend. 

Storm flashed warmth across their threads. /You have been away from the Hive too long,/ he sent, untangling a knot his fingers caught on. His fingers were a Wit's fingers, clever and agile-

Leaning into the touch, Drought breathed deep, taking in the familiar scent of Hive. It was faint, now, so long away from a true Hive, but still lingering, still soothing. /Far too long,/ he agreed. /My sister-queen needed my assistance, but I cannot help but feel like I should never have left./

/It might have changed things,/ Storm mused, combing out the knotted hair. /Or it might have done nothing at all. We will never know, so there is no point in dwelling on it. There is much to be done./

/And we might not have much time to accomplish it,/ Drought agreed, taking a last moment to bask in the feeling of Hive before stepping out of Storm's embrace. /The Commander entrusted me with this task. I will not let him down./

/Nor will I,/ Storm sent, and the conviction of the statement flashed across the treads like bursts of electricity. He picked his bag back up and carelessly threw it over his shoulder. 

Their Hive was only a shadow of what they had been, a scattering of Wits and one Blade. Two, counting the Commander. The odds were not good. However, Drought had seen Cipher turn worse odds into something viable. They were few, but those who remained were loyal. They had not had a Hive bound by trust and loyalty for far too long. Not since Snowdrop had been killed. In betraying them, Ashes had set them free. The Smoke Clan Blade had always been a fool, and now he had proved that. Only Blades had been allowed into his little coup, their Wits discarded. Not only had he left himself without anyone to attend to his stolen ship, he had left behind those whose loyalty to the Commander was unwavering. A small force, but still one to be reckoned with. Drought was not the right to lead them to power, but he would gather their Hive and reinforce what position they had left. 

When the Commander returned, they would be ready. 

The galaxy would not be.

**Author's Note:**

> Drought used to be a commander, so he's probably the best suited for running the show while Todd isn't around. That doesn't mean it's an easy job. 
> 
> There is no room for toxic masculinity among telepaths. Wraith cuddle their hive-kin when they feel like it, dammit. 
> 
> This is more or less what went down in any continuity I write (except a few very specific AUs), including Into the Hive. Someone had to do the mopping up while Todd was off sulking in ugly jumpsuits. River Clan attendants represent xD (I think, at this point, the River Clan is basically the Hufflepuff of Wraith; hardworking and loyal. The Night Clan, of course, are Slytherins.)
> 
> Please tell me if you encounter any stray [elephants](http://nimblesnotebook.tumblr.com/post/99769793620/the-elephant-technique-or-how-not-to-break-your); I think I got them all but you never know.


End file.
